Pity Party for Me


I had a pity party for myself yesterday. On Mother’s Day. I am getting good at pity parties.

It wasn’t as if my family forgot about it. I got the requisite flowers and cards. I even got them early for once. It wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep in, we skipped church (probably going to hell again).

Despite the flowers and cards, I was in a bad place. You know how one little comment can turn you into the bitch from hell? Happens to the best of us.

It all started with a comment by my hubby.

“Are you on the computer when you have so much to do?”

Whoa…it’s fucking Mother’s Day and you are getting on my ass about being on the computer? All because I have STUFF to do? Excuse the hell out of me!

Yes, my house is a mess. Could it be that I was gone all week? Shouldn’t I have come home to a clean house for Mother’s Day weekend? Yes, laundry needs to be done. I have 2 kids and a husband, couldn’t you have at least started a load or two?

Yes, my cupboards are bare and I have to go to the grocery store. That’s what take out is for.

So I did what any other passive-aggressive bitch would do. I shut of the computer. And I started cleaning.

In total silence. Not a word was uttered. I vacuumed the rugs, Swiffered the hardwood, polished the furniture and cleaned the toilet.

Coming into the house he sees the progress and asks “Did you want to go out to lunch or something?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s nearly 2:00 and I will still have to cook when the kids get home. So no.”

His reply: “Is it something I said? Am I reading too much into this?”

Um, hello!?!?!?! You mean you actually have to ask that question?

So instead, I tell him that he made me angry (here’s the censoring. I really just wanted to tell him what a douche he can be at times) when he made the comment about being on the computer because of all that has to be done. He says that wasn’t how he meant it and I don’t have to clean. It can wait until tomorrow.

Oh, thank you very much Mr. Charity!

I cooked dinner, cleaned the kitchen and then went to the grocery store.

I hope you choke on your sandwich.

Always sassy, always bitchy.

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